The Roundabout Way
by Arethusa Fellini
Summary: A thief changes his path by attempting to become a knight. An elderly knight, with a dark past, helps him. [on hold]
1. Chapter 1 The Meeting

**Chapter 1 the Meeting**

            A man stood some yards away from the entrance of the Knights' Chivalry in the hectic city of Prontera. He was a large man, a giant called by some, with more grays than raven hair and a thick beard. Dressed in worn-out trousers and dirty cotton-shirts, everyone would have passed him as a blacksmith – which he was not.  
  
            Raising a hand to shield his cerulean eyes from the glaring sunlight, the man eyed his surroundings. His gaze went through the few houses that were built at the north-western part of the great Capital, the chattering birds on some of the trees, and the running children. He saw a handful of townsfolk talking with each other; a knight's shield bearing his guild's coat-of-arms, a soldier on his post…  
  
            His eyeing stopped. His forehead creased in a frown.  
  
            _'My what!?!'_  
  
            Then it suddenly dawned. He shifted his now incredulous gaze back to the knight.  
  
            "Burris, you are one OLD geezer," he muttered to himself.  
  
            _Your sight sure is tricking you. You should have drunk that tea like your daughter had told you to. _  
  
            He closed his shocked eyes. After a few seconds, he opened them. The knight with the same coat-of-arms glued to its shield was still there.  
  
            _This is impossible! This could not be happening… This shouldn't even happen! Why, he was the only one to- _  
  
            His face contorted into a pained expression. Then, redness started to dominate Burris' face.  
  
            _That coat-of-arms was dead and buried 15 years ago!_

            Daffid was fiddling with the old shield he had with him. He had had it buffed yesterday and was quite pleased to see its shining glory restored. Even the colors of the emblem on the shield were vibrantly displayed. He looked up at the few flags bearing different emblems of the Knight Chivalry's different associations and back to the shield.  
  
            _They all look the same to me._ He shrugged.   
  
            "YOU THERE! You, Sir Knight!"  
  
            _Oh no, was it that quick for them to learn that I'm a hoax? _Daffid tensed. He swerved his body to face the owner of the voice. He considered himself tall so he was surprised to face a chest – a very broad chest. He angled his face up to see the man's face and immediately felt relieved. For a second there, he thought he was one of the men who collected the applications.  
  
            His relief, however, was short-lived for the giant had grabbed him by the chain mail he was wearing. Effortlessly the giant hauled him off one foot from the ground and brought Daffid into eye-level with him. The giant then thrust his face close to him.  
  
            "Where did you steal the shield you have with you, _Sir Knight?_" The last was uttered sarcastically through gritted teeth.  
  
            "I… why, I… well…"  
  
            "YOU THIEF!!!"  
  
            "I am not! I am a swordsman who has come here to become a knight!"  
  
            "Dressed in a knight's garb already? You're pretty confident."  
  
            "I am not a thief," he asserted for he was at a loss for words.  
  
            "Aw, come now. Is that all you can say? I thought thieves are very good at making excuses."  
  
            Daffid's face burned with embarrassment.  
  
            "The shield belongs to my family," he croaked with as much sincerity as he could muster.

            Burris felt sick. He threw the young man away from him. Daffid landed ten feet away while the shield clattered at Burris' feet. He picked up the shield. He felt confused. He fingered the coat-of-arms on the shield. He ran his hand over the falcon with its wings spread out and a coiled snake dangling from its claws. It was an exact replica. He flipped it so he could see the other side. His grip on the shield tightened until his fingers went white.  
  
            If it was possible for him to get even sicker than he felt, he would have. The shield right before him was no replica. In fact, he knows who owns the shield because of a signature etched on one corner. What sickens him is that the owner was already dead. The owner had died a tragic death in the castle of Glast Heim fifteen years ago. How the shield got here he dreaded to know.  
  
            Dazed from the impact, Daffid sat up. His whole body hurt because he wasn't used to wearing heavy metal around his whole body. It was only now that he noticed the eerie silence that has befallen the north-western sector of Prontera. Everyone, even the children, had stopped their doings to witness the scene unraveling before them.   
  
            The giant and the false knight have acquired an audience.   
  
            Burris didn't notice any of this. His mind was already elsewhere…

---------

As usual, darkness covered Glast Heim Castle. Four knights and a priest were waiting at the entrance.  
  
            "Will they still be long, Sir Burris?" asked the priest, albeit nervously.  
  
            "I hope not. It will not be safe for us to stay at one place for too long a time," Sir Burris, the burliest of them all, answered.  
  
            "Why don't we pass the time by slaying monsters inside - just the first floor of course," Petula, the only female knight in the guild, suggested.  
  
            Burris looked at the auburn-haired female knight with irritation._ Always the energetic one... Always in the mood to prove herself better than us men… _He sighed. With masked impatience Burris answered, "We must conserve our energies, Lady Petula."  
  
            One of the knights, who held a permanent malicious glare in his eyes, laughed. "If only the Goddess Freya gave you some looks instead of your boundless energy!"  
  
            "Agh...I hope you rot in the underworld with Hel!"  
  
            "Oooh... feisty aren't we?"  
  
            "Shut up, Malfoy." the last of the knights, Balder, said with cold emphasis.  
  
            "Ah, ice-lover to the rescue," Malfoy answered with a snicker.  
  
            "Settle down everyone! Save your energies for the monsters," Burris intervened before the argument could get out-of-hand.  
  
            Footsteps echoed in the silence that had followed.  
  
            "Sir Skuld!" everyone, except Burris, called out.  
  
            "'Bout time you got here Skuld. Where is your loving wife, Lilibeth?"  
  
            Burris went to Skuld to clasp his hand and to give the man a hug.  
  
            "She is preg- ...er... indisposed."  
  
            "Eh? You're not telling me everything, old pal."  
  
            Skuld just smiled.  
  
            "Well… as long as she's ok?"  
  
            Skuld nodded.   
  
            Burris smiled. He smacked his hand on Skuld's back and turned to the group.  
  
            "Will we be able to do this, Sir Burris? We lack a sage. We do not know the capabilities of this priest here."   
  
            The priest glowered at Balder. Ignoring the priest, Balder continued.  
  
            "Lacking a support, we will not be as strong as we would have liked."  
  
            "Your tone of voice does not suggest lack of confidence, Sir Balder. I trust that you are not backing out?" Burris queried with raised brows. "No? As for the priest I have been told that he casts fast. Let us commence with our mission gentlemen-"   
  
            "-and lady." Burris added before Petula could open her mouth to utter a word of protest.__


	2. Chapter 2 Cowardice

**Chapter 2 Cowardice**

And so the group entered the cold and dreary castle. The air inside was stale and rusty but they moved on. Formed in a circle they were, with the priest in the middle, walking past the rusted chandelier hanging on the ceiling and up the cold marble stairs leading to the second floor of the dreaded castle.

_'On...on they went to their death...'_ a sagewurm recited as it followed the humans.

The stench was more defined as the group explored the dark corridors in the second floor of Glast Heim Castle. An eerie silence met them. The only sound they could hear was their own footsteps. Their sight went as far as the lighted torch's radius.

"Is it supposed to be this quiet?" Petula said with false calmness. Cold sweat was beading out of her forehead and upper lips.

"Don't fret Lady Petula... one of them monsters will surely take a liking to you. You're going to be our bait."

Petula drew the tip of her sword against Malfoy's vulnerable neck.

"Stop this, right now!" Burris whispered angrily while bringing Petula's sword down.

Skuld listened to the silence.

That was when they heard it… a woman's shriek. It was so high-pitched that the knights were momentarily deafened because the shriek had resounded inside the helms they were wearing. The priest had covered both his ears with his hands.

"Wha-what i-is it?" The priest asked anxiously.

"Sush..." Skuld strained to hear movement.

Another shriek... Skuld frowned. That was no woman's shriek as he had first thought. It sounded...metallic. He guessed it was a sword being scraped against the marble floor.

_Thud... thud... thud..._

Heavy footsteps... and a glint of red… Out of nowhere, Malfoy earned a large gash on his chest. Blood spurted out of his damaged breastplate. He went down on his knees with his hands vainly trying to stop the flow of blood.

Everyone was taken by surprise. A khalitzburg was in front of Malfoy, ready to take another swing. Skuld suddenly came to his senses. He grabbed the priest.

"For Odin's sake you're a priest! Why the heck are you not doing anything? Cast safety wall, stupid!"

Confused and terrified [for this was the first time the priest has entered Glast Heim, worse, any dungeon], the priest mistakenly cast Kyrie Eleison on Malfoy. The khalitzburg struck at Malfoy's dying body, but the barrier held on.

Petula went in front of Malfoy, guarding him and the others.

-------------------

"Where in Hel's underworld did you recruit this priest, Burris?"

"May I remind you Sir Skuld that the priest is not yet in our guild? But I suggest we have this argument after we finish this. If I am not mistaken, that -" points to somewhere in the dark"- is the Abysmal Knight," Balder said with apparent cool.

-------------------

_This_ _is the moment. If I kill this monster, I might be able to earn everyone's respect and be the pride of this guild._ She raised the sword over her head and struck the khalitzburg's body.

Unfortunately, the khalitzburg was only pushed back a step. Its upper body bent backwards but sprang back instantly. It still had both its swords on the ground as if it had no strength to carry it.

"Hey, bonehead! Are your swords too heavy for yah?" Petula provoked. She drank an awakening potion. She summoned up her skills to better fight the decomposed creature. She raised her sword for another strike.

-------------------

The sound of hooves and strike of metal against metal penetrated through the arguing knights. They readied for the fight that was about to ensue.

"Lady Petula, stay close!" Skuld yelled.

"What of Malfoy?"

"The barrier is still working."

Petula turned her back on the khalitzburg and hurried back to the group. A grave mistake is what she will call this for a second after she turned the khalitzburg took a swing that sliced through her neck. The helm was no protection. The khalitzburg made its way to the remaining group.

At this point, even the Abysmal Knight has arrived and was menacingly looking down at them. It raised its bloodied sword and brought it down the priest. Burris was able to block it with his own two-handed sword.

The priest cowered with fright. "I… I… I'm sorry!"

With these parting words the priest cast teleport and disappeared.

"Well if it isn't Loki himself! The stinkin' priest abandoned us!" Skuld said disgustedly.

The khalitzburg was attacking Balder now. The Abysmal knight was joining in.

Burris was rooted to the spot. He was getting cold. He was starting to feel dread coming out from the deepest recess of his heart. His hand felt clammy and his concentration was faltering. He saw Balder being ripped to shreds by the khalitzburg. And Skuld, he was fighting for his dear life with the Abysmal knight with only a shield for protection.

_This is not supposed to happen. We were supposed to come here and kill this damn thing, not the other way around! I should have gotten a better priest. That damn priest acted like a cowering chiken! I—_

_'You will never be a great leader, Burris. You are a pathetic and selfish being. You've always thought of yourself. You bring disgrace to our clan!'_ a dark voice from his past reminded him.

_No… NO! No no no no no!_

Fright crept through the man's heart. It spread throughout his whole body. And so, he did what he had always done when he was still a child --- he fled.

He fled for the safety of his life. When he reached the steps outside Glast Heim Castle, he paused.

_I've proven them wrong again. Just like the last time._

Tears of shame welled up Burris' eyes. He ran back to the bloodshed.

What he saw revolted him. The Abysmal Knight was still there, a pool of blood surrounding it. Blood was still dripping down its sword. Down at the horse's hooves was a contorted heap of human flesh. It was beyond identifying. The limbs were tangled together, with the head facing the floor. He saw the shield lying beside it, Skuld's shield to be precise.

He was ready to vomit but he checked himself. Taking his two-handed-sword, he ran up to the beast with his sword pointing towards it while yelling curses. Before he could reach his target, an object hit him in the head. Burris lost his consciousness.


	3. Chapter 3 A New Face

**Chapter 3 A New Face**

Daffid heaved his aching and heavier-than-usual body up. It was no easy task for him. Being a thief, he had to wear the scarcest of clothes to make himself light and agile. He still had no understanding as to why knights wear such heavy armor. He smoothed a hand on his auburn hair.

Standing awkwardly, Daffid drew his gaze to the burly man who had thrown him as if he weighed a sack of feathers. The man, no, the giant was not staring at him as he would have thought. The giant's eyes were glazed, as if in deep thought. His lips moved in an impish grin.

_ Chance. Time to retrieve my shield and scoot._

Daffid crept slowly at the giant who was still oblivious to his surroundings. He didn't like what was happening. And he especially didn't like the on-looking crowd. He glared at them. Some of them backed away and resumed their business.

He came here to forget his new life and to start a new one. He was sick and tired of his previous one. He had carefully thought out the plans. Fed up with stealing and being treated as a third class citizen, he had gone here. He was here to claim his lost dignity. What better way to claim it but to become a knight?

Being a knight, he might be able to walk the streets with pride in his eyes and an air of confidence about him. No one will be bad-mouthing him anymore but instead, talks of his greatness will spread like wildfire. All he needed was someone who will proclaim his knighthood.

But now this, this – _giant_ is going to mess up his plans!

--------------------

Burris' eyes still flashed with images. Every second of that mortifying day rolled with lightning speed but with terrifying clarity. An image of his best friend, Skuld, wearing a smile retained itself in his mind before he became aware of his surroundings again. The knight, or whatever he was, was within his view. He froze.

_Reddish-brown hair.__ Emerald green eyes. Romanesque nose. Skuld's mirror image. The likeness is unmistakable. Oh, Odin! Why didn't I notice this before?_

_ Oh, holy Gods! Is this some sort of sick joke? A punishment?_

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks dropped on him. He started to hear a buzzing sound. His heart started to palpitate slower. His breathing became ragged. His brain was losing its capacity to function. He looked around but everyone and everything was blurry and going in slow motion. For the first time on Burris' life, he lost his consciousness.

-------------------

Daffid, with eyes in utter astonishment, saw the giant fall to the ground like a tower of unstable cards would. Gasps were heard from the spectators.

_Damn it to Hel!_

He couldn't leave the giant lying on the ground. He was still dressed in knight's clothing. If he was planning on a new life as a knight, a dignified one at that, he should handle this straight on. He silently cursed the nosy spectators for being there. He looked at the able-bodied men watching.

"I need help."

--------------------

The giant, or old man Burris, as the head nurse had heard him call him, was now safely tucked in one of the beds in the infirmary. He gathered his shield and his pouch and headed for the door.

Before he was able to reach the door, it crashed open. In came a girl, gasping for air. He couldn't see her face since the girl was bent forward with her hands on her knees. Raven black hair was tied in a coiffeur. Some tendrils had escaped, maybe from her exertion.

When the girl was able to get her breath back, she looked up. She smiled.

"Oh, good I caught up with you!"

He couldn't take his eyes off her face. It was… exquisite. She had the deepest cerulean eyes and perfect ivory skin. She had the most sensuous cherry lips. She looked fragile, but beautiful. It made him think of delicate magnolias. Something ignited inside him that made him want to be her protector with or without her consent.

He was still looking at her when the girl remarked uncertainly, "You are the knight that brought him here, aren't you?"

"Um, I'm not exactly a knight. I have to go. I still need to register at the inn before it becomes full. As you can see it is nearing sunset."

"Applying for a knight then. You can stay at our place. After all, you did bring him here. Anyway, my father might be able to give you some pointers on becoming a skillful knight."

"Your father?!"

The girl brought her hand to her blushing cheeks. "Oh my, I haven't introduced my self, haven't I? I'm Madeline. I'm Sir Burris de Montmorency's daughter. And you are?"

Daffid digested this in silence. He glanced at one of the occupied beds.

_So the giant is a knight? I guess a slight change of plans wouldn't hurt. _

Before he could utter a word, a voice still groggy from sleep barked.

"Madeline, is that you?"

"Yes, Father I'm here."

"Well what are you doing standing there by the door? Come here!"

Madeline grinned. She circled her fingers on Daffid's wrist and dragged him to her father who was hefting himself out of the bed.

Burris stiffened when he saw the boy Madeline had in tow. He threw a baleful glance at Daffid.

"Now, now Father." Madeline wagged a finger to her father's direction. "Stop acting like a senile old man. After all Sir – uh – he – uh," she looked at Daffid with inquiring eyes.

"Daffid."

"Yes, Daffid did bring you here. I asked him to stay with us, Father. He needed a place to spend the night, you see."

Burris grunted.

"And what is your full name young man?"

"Daffid Iolo."

_Iolo__._

The doubtness that had been nagging at him while he was feigning sleep became a certainty._ Skuld Iolo. Could this mean that Lilibeth is still alive?_

"Where is your mother?"

"Why not ask for my father?" Daffid countered skeptically.

"Just answer my question," Burris replied with a hint of annoyance to hide his discomfort.

"I am an orphan, Sir. The Sisters in the Prontera Sanctuary were kind. They told me both my parents are dead. They let me keep my last name."

Burris felt his heart constrict. _I'm sorry._

"So you grew up there?"

"No, Sir. I grew up in Payon. I worked as a thief."

Daffid saw Burris' face register one of satisfaction. He had no idea why.

"So you _are_ a thief!"

Madeline, who had kept silent and contented herself by listening to the conversation, suddenly perked up. "A thief?!"

Daffid's face burned. Grudgingly he answered, "Yes."

Burris thought for a moment. A _penance for my sins?_

"And you want to become a knight? Well you have met the right person!"


	4. Chapter 4 The Training

**Chapter 4 Training**

A sword was flying in the air with the point tilted up. The blade glistened as the sun's rays struck it. Daffid caught it right before it hit the ground.

"I have to test your skills. Five moves, young man."

Burris unsheathed his claymore from his scabbard and assumed a guarded stance.

Not used to handling long blades, Daffid experimented with his hands until he got a comfortable grip on the sword. Truthfully, he had no idea what to do so he attacked just for the heck of it. Daffid ran with a speed faster than a normal thief. A yard away from Burris, he raised his arms above his head.

Burris took notice of Daffid's speed. He raised his claymore perpendicular to Daffid's over-head strike. Burris raised his leg and dealt a powerful kick to Daffid's exposed stomach.

Daffid flew backwards with his arms and legs lagging behind.

"One."

Winded, Daffid stood up. He was still gripping the sword in his hand. He looked at the giant who had on a mocking smile that infuriated him.

"I thought this was going to be a fight of the blades?"

"Did I say so?"

Daffid irritably swung his sword for an upward strike. Burris easily deflected it.

"Two."

Taking another swing for Burris' neck, the giant raised the hilt of his claymore to his throat to block it. Both his arms were holding the weapon.

Using his free hand, Daffid balled it into a fist and aimed it at the giant's abdomen.

_Clank! _

Daffid's mouth gape wide open. His eyes grew bigger until all the whites showed around his irises. His arms sprang back to his side. He gripped his bruised and swollen hand and nursed it between his thighs.

Burris hiked up his cotton shirt. He testily knocked at the armor he was wearing.

"A hundred percent pure metal," Burris remarked cheekily.

"You probably cracked some bones!" Daffid declared hoarsely.

"Uh-uh." Burris nodded to him pointedly. "You did."

Daffid's face burned with anger. He picked up his sword and made for another swing.

"Three."

"Four."

"Five."

Every strike was blocked but Daffid still persevered. Unexpectedly, Daffid crooked his knee and raised a fatal blow at the giant's groin.

"YEEEOOOOWWW!!!"

Daffid hopped on one foot, moving backwards. Both his hands were covering his now injured knee.

"Bwahahahahaha…" Burris laughed out loud with his hands on his hips.

Daffid tripped on a stone and fell back. He was still in pain when he lay sprawled on the cobblestone walk.

A claymore felt itself on his throat.

"You did good boy. But I said five moves. You made seventeen. Not counting that last _foul_ move."

"Foul!" Daffid raucously yelled. "But you did not even get hurt!"

"Bwahahahaha… always prepare for any battle, young man. And dare not yell again at your teacher!"

Burris hefted Daffid and carried him dangling on his shoulders.

"Where are you taking me?" He flung out his arms and legs in different directions.

Burris opened a large door and threw Daffid inside. He landed on a bale of hay. He heard the click of a lock. He stood up and ran for the door.

"Hey!" He banged on what he now identified as a stable door. "Let me out!"

"Not until you have cooled off, young man."

He heard the giant walk away while laughing heartily.

He sighed. He turned. He sniffed. What greeted his nose was the unpleasant aroma of peco peco poop.

Daffid slid down to the hay-covered floor. With his back to the stable door, he took a strand of hay and rolled it between his fingers.

_Damn that giant! And damn his armor!_

He sighed again. If an old man could pull a trick to him like that, then he was no match for the other knights.

            Hours passed, the giant had still not returned. He now wished he could go outside for some fresh, salty air of Izlude and not the air that he was breathing now. With nothing to do, Daffid slowly drifted to slumber.

            _Daffid__ stood at the center of a windowless, circular room. The room was dimly lit by fired torches hung with equal distances between them. A closed, wooden door stood in front of him. The chain mail felt heavy around him. A weird-looking blade dangling on his right arm weighed a ton. The room felt cold, or was it him that was cold? He visibly shuddered. He tried to take a step, but his feet were rooted to the ground. Not one part of his body moved._

_            He had the nagging feeling of being watched. He tried to move his head, but of course he couldn't. His breathing became labored. He felt that he was being watched by a thousand pair of eyes, but there was none. He moved his eyes right and left, trying to see if there was something in the room, but there was none._

_            The closed, wooden door suddenly opened, crashing to the wall. Beyond the door, more lit torches with equal distances between them hung on the long marbled corridor. The corridor was so long, the end seemed to start from a black abyss._

_He heard an eerie swish of a fabric. A strange being covered in black cape suddenly appeared, a sword floating in front of it. The being was floating fast towards him. It was gaining speed. Faster… Faster…until it raised its sword in front of it and stopped a foot from Daffid. He tried to look inside the hood of the caped being, but he was staring at nothing. A ghostly screech came from somewhere beyond the being, scaring the life out of him. The being swung the sword down to Daffid's immovable body._

Daffid sat up with a jolt. He gasped. Cold sweat ran down at the deep indentation of his spine. He brought a hand to his sweat-stained face.

_Not again._

And then he felt it…That nagging feeling of being watched by a thousand pair of eyes. He stood up and faced the stable door. He backed away, breathing heavily.

The space between the door and the ground was filled with light, but not anymore. A shadow loomed between it, blocking the light.

The click of the lock echoed inside his mind. The stable door opened. Daffid made a run towards the open door and crashed into whatever was outside.

He didn't feel the cold, stabbing feel of a sword against him, but softness. Surprised, he stared at what he had crashed to. It was not a what, but a who!

"Madeline!" He heaved himself up, taking both Madeline's hands to lift her up. "Are you hurt?"

She summoned a pained smile. "Yes, but I'm alright. Gosh, I didn't know you were that excited to see me!" She answered mischievously while brushing the dust that had stuck to her when they fell to the ground.

"I'm really sorry. I thought you were something else!"

"Something? Oh, well. My father gave me the key and he said I was to let you out." She lifted her eyebrows. "I was surprised to hear he locked you up here. Imagine that! I bet you want to breathe clean air now," she said with a smile. "May I offer you a walk to the port?"

Daffid returned her smile and answered a yes.


	5. Chapter 5 A Shadow

**Chapter 5 A Shadow**

The sun was slowly being swallowed by the sea. From citrus orange to a deep red to an indigo darkness, the sun slept, getting ready for another day. Daffid heard a sigh beside him.

Madeline was lounging on the stone railing that served as a protection to whoever might accidentally fall down the sea. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Yes," Daffid answered absently. He couldn't take his thoughts away from the dream. It wasn't the first time that he had encountered that dream. Back to when he was still in Payon, that same dream had greeted him every night. He counted the days that had passed when he didn't have that certain dream.

One week. After arriving in Prontera, the dream had stopped. He wondered what triggered it off.

"A zenny for your thoughts?"

"They're not even worth that much," he said with a crooked smile.

Madeline offered a dazzling smile in return. She moved her gaze back to the sky. A curtain of stars now lit the heavens. "Humor me."

Daffid's thoughts moved back to the time when he was a thief and before that. Technically, he was still one, but he wanted to completely severe himself from his past. He summed up his courage to talk, with a steady voice Daffid told his story…

-----------------------

A boy silently walked the moonlit corridors of the orphanage behind Prontera Sanctuary. Taking care not to accidentally nudge the bits and pieces of furniture scattered around the corridor, he walked to the way of the dirty kitchen.

He went for the storage room. There, he grabbed food and three canteens. He saw a large and empty rucksack lying in one corner. There, he put his collection of supplies and a bulky metal shield. He carefully closed the door to the storage room. He faced the dirty kitchen and walked towards an old wooden door.

The door leading outside stood in front of the boy. Holding his breath, he brought down the latch and slowly opened it. A creak coming from the hinges of the door resounded inside the small, orderly kitchen. He tensed. Seconds passed without anything happening. He opened the door fully and closed it after going outside.

The boy felt so elated. He ran, ran with such lightness and happiness, up the steps and beyond the city walls. Outside, he waited for the sunrise before he would continue his journey.

Sunrise came. The boy, glowing with excitement for the adventure of a lifetime, stood up. Adjusting the straps of the heavy rucksack, he took the first step towards his freedom. He felt so happy that he ran. When he arrived at the traveler's road, he walked. He stopped only to rest or to sleep at the rough and battered road.

A caravan being drawn by four peco pecos passed him by. It stopped some yards from him. A middle-aged man with blonde hair poked his head out.

"Oy! Where 'ya headed, lad?"

"I… I…" The boy rattled his brain for a destination. He muttered the first town that came to his mind. "I'm heading for Payon, Sir."

"Eh? Well I'll be damned. Might as well join me, lad. This here road is no place for a youngin' like 'ya. And dun 'ya worry 'bout a thing. I'll take 'ya there all in one piece!"

----------------------

            Borges, the middle-aged man with blonde hair, poured water over the campfire. The fire flickered, and then died. He stared to the heavens; a full moon lent a luminous glow to the night. He made his way to the caravan parked some yards away from the traveler's road.

            He raised a foot on a pedestal. Before he could lever himself up, a shadow appeared on the white covering of his caravan. He looked behind him.

            His heart somersaulted when he saw a caped entity standing a few feet away from him. He blinked.

The entity disappeared.

            He looked around. He saw the entity again. It was standing amongst the dense trees.

            "Oy! Anyone there?"

            The figure slowly blended to the darkness.

            _Strange._

Borges climbed up and into the caravan. He settled his portly body comfortably in the confined space. His eyes went to the sleeping form of the young boy. The boy's reddish-brown hair reached to his chin, obviously uncut for some months. He was curled in a fetal position, with both his arms hugging the large rucksack.

            Borges noticed the boy shiver. He took a spare blanket from a chest placed in one corner of the caravan. Spreading the blanket out, he covered the skinny form, covering the entire length of the boy's body.

            "Uh…"

            Borges tensed. He heard another moan, deeper…darker. Beads of perspiration popped out of the boys face and neck. Alarmed, Borges shook the boy with his hands on the boy's shoulders.

            "Uh…"

            . The hair on Borges' skin stood up.

            "Lad! Lad! Wake up, lad!"

            The boy bolted upright with a gasp. With fear clearly shown in his emerald eyes, he muttered incoherently, "I-It's co… coming! It's a-a… after me! I-It's going to k-k-kill me!"

             "What is, lad? What's after 'ya?"

            "The… the one in a black cape!"

            A stab of fear entered Borges heart.

---------------------------

            "This is where I'd be leavin' 'ya, lad. If I was 'ya I'd better find me self a job. I'd be guessin' ya' dun have 'nuf money to keep them fabres alive."

            The boy hopped off the caravan parked at the entrance of the town of Payon.

            "Here," Borges said while he grabbed the large rucksack behind him. "Do take care of you' self lad. 'Specially down in Archer's Village. Them adventurers cou'd become really rowdy. Might be too much for young lads like 'ya. Best to stay in Payon."

            "Thank you, Sir," the boy smiled, took the rucksack and nestled it on his back.

            "O'right. Me's be leadin' to Alberta now. The best of luck to 'ya, lad!"

            May _Odin protect you, lad._ Borges sighed.

            And with that, Borges brought his whip out and lashed it on the stationary peco pecos.


	6. Chapter 6 A Roundabout Way

**Chapter 6 A Roundabout Way**

Two days passed. The sun was now beating down its wrath on everyone who had no shade atop their heads. The boy wearily sat on the steps in front of the Payon temple. His hair glistened a fiery red on the afternoon sun.

Two days and still no job. He had exhausted all the shops, houses, and even the local pub that could provide him work. Nobody seemed to need a boy servant. He was dead tired.

His stomach growled. He rummaged for his rucksack for food, but none was left. The canteens he carried were also empty of its contents. Dismayed, he grabbed the trouser of a passing townsman.

"Water, Sir," the boy implored.

"Take your filthy hands off me!" Seeing the boy's miserable state, the townsman conceded. "If you want free water, grab some at the lake in Archer's Village."

----------------------

Condor meat. Wolf meat. Savage meat. Hydra meat. Phen meat. Bapho meat. All kinds of meat.

The boy's mouth salivated at the tantalizing aroma of roasted meat offered by the merchant. He breathed in the wonderful scents, willing it to miraculously make his stomach satisfied. His stomach just growled more.

Looking around, he could see a lot of adventurers, mostly hunters, walking about the village. He took off his rucksack and dropped it to the ground. He raised both his arms above his head, stretching his aching muscles.

A running, silver-haired thief of the same height as him made a grab for the rucksack he had left on the ground. Instead of melting into the crowd, the thief ended up sprawled on the ground, his hand fully stretched but still holding the rucksack.

The thief stood up and looked at the boy, who looked back at him. They stood there, facing each other, summing up each other. But then, both of their eyes crinkled with amusement, and with amusement came laughter. They laughed as if there was no tomorrow.

----------------------

The boy picked up with ease the large rucksack the thief was unable to steal.

Surprise etched the thief's features. "Hey, that stuff inside was really heavy! You must be really strong! What have you got in there, [i]gold[/i] bars?"

The boy blinked. "There's nothing much really."

"May I carry it again?" The thief said with a devilish glint hinting in his silver eyes. He stretched his arm toward the boy.

The boy hanged the straps of the rucksack on the thief's hand. The rucksack plummeted to the ground.

"Oof…"

_What the – it's like something is pulling it to the ground!_ The thief scratched his head, bewildered.

"Is that bag cursed?" Before the boy could reply to this, the boy's stomach made its presence known by growling again. The thief laughed; the boy's cheeks burned.

"I should have known," the thief said, still amused. "Runaways like you won't be able to keep fabres alive! What with no money and all…" He threw a questioning look at the blushing boy. "You are a runaway, aren't you?"

"Yes," the boy mumbled.

"Come with me."

-------------------------

"Whoa there, kid! Nobody's going to steal that food from you," the thief exclaimed as he passed a goblet filled with water.

"I'm sorry. I haven't eaten for about –", the boy took a gulp of water, "– the whole day now. Why do you call me a kid, by the way? You don't look old. In fact, I don't think you're that much older than me."

The thief smiled at this. He lifted a hand towards the boy. "The name's Yorgil Zuiken, fourteen summers old. At least that's what I think."

"Daffid Iolo. I'm ten," the boy declared while shaking the hand of the thief. "Did you build this shack?" He asked, looking at the sturdy walls made of willow wood.

A glimmer of pride brightened Yorgil's eyes. "Yes. I made this when I was about your age. Well, at least I think I was ten that time."

"What's with the age confusion?"

Yorgil shrugged. "It didn't seem important back then; it still isn't. And I don't really remember events that hold no importance for me."

"Oh." Daffid resumed his supper.

"Where'd you get that shield, by the way?"

"The Sisters at the Prontera Sanctuary gave it to me. They say they belonged to my family."

"They say? Aren't you sure? Didn't you ask around?"

"No." Daffid shook his head. "We weren't allowed to leave the orphanage. Not until one reached the age of twelve."

"Why did you leave? I thought orphanages were good places?"

"The Sisters said that I was going to be an acolyte. I don't want to be one," Daffid said defiantly.

Yorgil laughed. "We're going to be great friends, you and I."

----------------------------

The soft rustling of the trees signaled the presence of the night wind. It caressed and soothed Yorgil's face as it slowly passed. He leaned against a tree, his hands crossed over his head. He drew out a breath and closed his eyes.

But just then, a twinge of nervousness felt itself on his Yorgil's heart. He opened his eyes. Confusion clouded his mind as he saw a caped entity float towards the open shack.

The caped entity was gaining speed, never wavering from its path, floating straight for its destination – the shack. He saw the entity bring forth a sword.

Astounded, he tried to move, except that some external force was stopping him. And this force, it seemed to create a void around him, around the shack; leaving only him, the caped entity, and Daffid, who was now writhing on the bed but still asleep.

He could clearly see it now. The caped entity, the _wraith_, was slowly approaching Daffid. It raised its sword, and then brought it down for a mighty strike.

"NO!!!"

Daffid sat up with a jolt, breathing heavily.

"Daffid!" Yorgil shouted, leaning a hand against the door jamb. "You're ok!"

They stared at each other, both of them still breathing heavily.

---------------------

"We became close after that. We treated each other more than friends. We were brothers, best of friends," Daffid recounted.

"I noticed that you're saying it as if you aren't friends now," Madeline observed with a slight frown.

"He's still angry with me. For leaving him, I guess. He was my mentor and my protector. He still is," Daffid said with a sigh of regret.

He taught me everything I know.

"I still remember what he said to me, 'We're thieves! This is our destiny. I know people here treat us like dirt, but we get back at them don't we?' He even resented the fact that I wanted to become a knight."

---------------------

_'A knight?!__ Why, for Odin's sake? What reasonable reason could you have?'_

_ 'The dream,' Daffid would say unemotionally._

_ 'But it's just a dream!'_

_ 'You saw it too, Yorgil. In fact, you were awake at that time.'_

And Yorgil would go silent after this.

_So here I am, training to become a full-fledged knight. I hope I know what I'm getting myself into. _


End file.
